


Break a Glass but Not My Heart

by Eien_Ni



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Clone Wars: Gambit Series - Karen Miller, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Post Rako Hardeen, Post-Episode: s04e15 Deception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eien_Ni/pseuds/Eien_Ni
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive. And currently standing in his apartment.In the wake of Rako Hardeen, Bail Organa comes to terms with Obi-Wan Kenobi's deception.
Relationships: Bail Organa/Breha Organa (mentioned), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Bail Organa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	Break a Glass but Not My Heart

As soon as Bail entered his apartment on Coruscant, he headed straight for the liquor cabinet, grabbing a glass and pouring a finger of brandy. He looked at the bottle and decided against putting it away, instead taking it and the glass with him over to the couch. He set both items on the low table before shedding his robe and throwing it over the back of the couch.

He sank onto the couch, raking a hand through his dark hair, and sighed heavily. The past week or so had been difficult for him, beginning with the news of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s death by a bounty hunter’s rifle.

He’d gone to the funeral - a simple thing, as was the Jedi custom. Obi-Wan had been interred with the other Jedi who’d passed on. Bail, for his part, had been dry eyed during the ritual, unlike a few others who had been in attendance. Padmé and the Duchess Satine of Mandalore had shed a few tears, both of whom had a past with Obi-Wan, missions he’d been on to protect them.

Not that Bail also didn’t have a past with Obi-Wan. There had been Zigoola, a name that still made Bail shudder in horror despite a few years having passed. But Bail couldn’t bring himself to hate that planet entirely. Because of it, he’d seen Obi-Wan at his worst and appreciated what he was capable of, what Jedi were capable of. A friendship had formed on Zigoola, nurtured on Coruscant until it had flourished, blossoming into a mutual attraction that both men had been hesitant to act upon - Bail because he was married and a Senator, and Obi-Wan because he was a Jedi. In the end, Breha had given Bail permission to begin an affair with Obi-Wan, having put the pieces together when Bail had been wistful one time while talking about Obi-Wan.

Seducing Obi-Wan into his bed had been easier than Bail had originally thought. He’d broached the subject one night during dinner, and Obi-Wan, after thinking over the proposition for a few moments, had agreed. The war, Obi-Wan had later confessed to Bail in the dark, was taking its toll on him, and with all of the death and destruction in the Galaxy, he just wanted something good to hold on to.

Things had been going well between the two of them, and then Obi-Wan had died, killed by a sniper. It was, in Bail’s opinion, a ridiculous way for a Jedi of Obi-Wan’s caliber to die, and at first he’d rejected the idea, stubbornly clinging to the idea that it had been someone else.

Then he’d been requested at the funeral, and he knew then that Obi-Wan was really dead. Except he really wasn’t. It had all been a lie, a cover so that Obi-Wan could infiltrate a group that was plotting to kidnap the Chancellor. Bail had taken longer to adjust to the realization that Obi-Wan _hadn’t_ died than it had when he’d thought that Obi-Wan _was_ dead. But he couldn’t deny it now.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive.

And currently standing in his apartment.

Bail rose from the couch, dark eyes flashing in barely suppressed anger. “Get out,” he hissed.

But Obi-Wan only stepped closer, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, and Bail -

Bail was not in the mood to be placated like a child throwing a tantrum. He had a right to be upset, to throw Obi-Wan out of his rooms. His lover had let him think that he was dead, hadn’t bothered to give him any indication that he was alive. While Bail understood the reasoning for the secrecy, it stung. He was capable of keeping a secret, and it wasn’t as though the Galaxy would be looking to Bail for his reaction to Obi-Wan’s death. Obi-Wan could have told him, but he hadn’t, and now Bail was unsure of how to proceed from here.

“Don’t make me call security,” Bail threatened, drawing himself up to his full height. 

“You do remember that I can easily subdue them,” Obi-Wan drawled, a hint of a smirk present, and Bail snapped.

“Not unless you want an international crisis on your hands between Alderaan and the Jedi Order for a Jedi refusing to leave the Senator’s quarters.” He watched with satisfaction as Obi-Wan’s expression fell, though he still felt a twinge of guilt as the Jedi stepped back.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said quietly, folding his arms and hiding his hands inside of the sleeves of his robe. He bowed then turned towards the door, hesitating before speaking again. “I am due back on the _Negotiator_ in five days’ time, but I will be in Temple until then.”

With that, he was gone.

Bail fell back onto the couch, threw back the rest of the brandy, and slammed the empty cup on the table. He must have put more force than necessary into the action because the glass shattered, and Bail cursed as the pieces dug into his hand. Blood dripped sluggishly from the cuts as he examined it, and he sighed. He would need to tend this quickly and hope that no one asked questions tomorrow at the office.

Deciding that the best course of action was to clean up the broken glass first in case he injured himself further, he did just that, only to nearly jump out of his skin when two hands, calloused from holding a lightsaber, tenderly took his injured hand as he was reaching for the last broken piece.

“I thought I’d told you to leave,” Bail muttered stiffly. He wanted to pull his hand away, wanted to shout at Obi-Wan, wanted to push him and make him hurt like he’d hurt Bail, but he simply stood there and allowed Obi-Wan to hold his hand.

Obi-Wan nodded. “You did, but I felt your pain. I - I needed to know that you were okay.”

“My hand will heal in time,” Bail replied, looking straight into Obi-Wan’s eyes. “This pain is nothing compared to the past week.”

The Jedi lowered his gaze, contrite, embarrassed, and he gently ran his thumb over the back of Bail’s hand. “It was not my intention to cause you pain. I was only doing what was necessary to protect the Chancellor and the Republic.”

“You could have told me. You forget that I am a member of the Security Committee, and that I have my own secret information network. I am perfectly capable of keeping secrets. No one knows that you and I have been sleeping together for nearly two years,” Bail pointed out vindictively.

Obi-Wan sighed and began to lead Bail towards the fresher. Bail resisted, and Obi-Wan turned back towards him.

“The cuts will become infected if the glass remains in your hand, even with the high alcohol content of the brandy,” Obi-Wan said.

“I’ll give you until my hand is cleaned and bandaged,” Bail said. “You have that time to defend yourself, and I’ll reserve my judgment until then. Deal?”

Obi-Wan searched his eyes. Bail didn’t know what he was looking for, so he stared right back, tilting his chin up.

Obi-Wan finally huffed out a laugh and nodded. “Deal,” he murmured, lips quirked, and this time Bail didn’t resist as he was led into the fresher, where he once again balked when Obi-Wan motioned to the counter.

“You want me to sit there?” He asked dubiously.

“Unless you want to stand,” Obi-Wan replied mildly, “though I was under the impression that you liked having me between your legs.”

This man - ! Bail swore quietly, heat erupting in his veins as Obi-Wan’s smile transformed into a knowing smirk. With some effort and Obi-Wan’s help, Bail managed to sit on the counter. It continued to amaze him, even now while he was angry, at how easily Obi-Wan was able to manhandle him, and he ignored his growing arousal, despite Obi-Wan’s pointed look.

He watched as Obi-Wan retrieved the first aid kit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. These situations were normally reversed, with Bail carefully changing the bandages on the various wounds that Obi-Wan had received while on the battlefield. Bail knew where every scar was, how serious it had been, and he repressed the urge to tear off Obi-Wan’s clothes to make sure that he was still whole, that there were no injuries he didn’t know about.

But he wouldn’t do that. Not yet, anyway, not until Obi-Wan proved his point that keeping Bail in the dark had been the best option.

“Talk,” Bail said gruffly, wincing slightly as Obi-Wan eased a sliver of glass free from his palm.

“There isn’t much to say,” Obi-Wan replied, and dammit, Bail wanted to murder the man for his calm behavior. The bastard clearly believed that he was right, that allowing his lover to believe he was dead had been the correct choice.

“You’re not helping your case.”

At that, Obi-Wan stopped, deliberately setting aside the tweezers and glancing at Bail. “I stand by what I did. I am sorry you had to go through that pain -” Bail scoffed and looked away, but Obi-Wan caught his chin in his hands and forced him to look back “- I truly am, but it was necessary. Only a select few Council members knew, Bail. The Chancellor himself didn’t even know.”

“I am so glad to hear that the Chancellor and your lover were in the same situation,” Bail spat as he grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrist and yanked it away from his face.

“My duty comes first, or have you forgotten?” Obi-Wan straightened, a defiant look in his eyes. “I am a Jedi, Bail. When we first began this, we both agreed that our duty to the Republic and the Order would come first, no matter what. You did not need to know.”

Bail recoiled, feeling as though freezing water had just been thrown on him. His blood turned to ice in his veins, and he spoke, barely controlling his rage, “I think my position on the Security Committee renders that opinion null and void.”

“The fewer people who knew about it, the better. Even you have to admit that.”

Yes, it was true, Bail reflected. Subterfuge such as infiltrating a band of would-be assassins was a delicate operation, depending on the strictest secrecy. It hurt to admit, but Obi-Wan had made the best decision available. That didn’t mean that Bail had to like it.

Obi-Wan picked up the tweezers once more, his attention narrowing to Bail’s hand. Despite himself, Bail couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through his body at the gentle touch. He knew what Obi-Wan was capable of, what his hands could do, and yet he never feared for his life when Obi-Wan was with him. Obi-Wan’s touch was familiar, a balm that eased some of the ache in Bail’s chest, and the Senator deflated, shoulders slumping.

“Insufferable bastard,” he muttered, and he saw Obi-Wan’s lips twitch as though he were fighting back a smile. “I can never win an argument with you.”

“I suppose that would be why I am called the Negotiator,” Obi-Wan said wryly, and he flicked his gaze up to Bail’s for a brief moment before looking back down and gently swiping an antiseptic pad over the small cuts. “I meant what I said before. I stand by what I did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret the pain you went through because of my deceit. Believe me, Bail, I would have spared you from that if given the option. I know what it’s like to lose people I… _care_ about.”

And there it was. Trust Obi-Wan to get to the heart of the matter. Neither one of them had expected their fling to develop any further than a night in bed every few weeks. Hell, Bail had expected the whole affair to fizzle out after several months, but their relationship had only grown stronger, and Bail had soon found himself falling in love with the Jedi.

He kept his gaze fixed on Obi-Wan as the Jedi carefully inspected his palm to be sure that all of the glass had been removed. He knew that Obi-Wan was aware that he was looking when the tips of his ears reddened, and Bail grinned.

“There,” Obi-Wan said as he cradled Bail’s injured hand in his own two. “All the glass is gone. Next time, try not to break your glass.”

“There better not be a next time where I think you’re dead, but you’re really not,” Bail said calmly.

Obi-Wan just smiled, that familiar Jedi mystique and intrigue surrounding him.

Without warning, Bail grabbed Obi-Wan by the shoulders, not caring about the small twinges of pain radiating from his hand, and dragged him in close. He closed the distance between their mouths, feeling the exact moment when Obi-Wan gave in, his body shuddering out a quiet gasp as he leaned against Bail.

They stayed there for a moment, locked in an embrace, until Obi-Wan pulled back, laughing when Bail tried to capture him again.

“I do believe that you have a perfectly good bed in the next room,” Obi-Wan said, and he fisted a handful of Bail’s tunic and dragged him off of the counter. “Let’s make good use of it.”

Bail growled and began backing Obi-Wan towards the bedroom. The Jedi didn’t look anywhere else aside from Bail’s eyes, just the hint of a smirk present until Bail suddenly pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

Bail rolled his hips down as he tugged Obi-Wan’s tunic to uncover more skin and mouthed at Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He bit down gently on his collarbone, satisfied when Obi-Wan let out a breathy sigh.

The need to be skin against skin soon took over, and they parted so that they could undress. Bail left his clothing on the floor while Obi-Wan carefully laid his over a chair. Best not to be seen leaving a Senator’s apartment with rumpled garments, Bail knew.

Bail once again covered Obi-Wan’s body with his own, sliding between his legs and kissing him, tongue slipping inside his mouth. Obi-Wan whined, arms wrapped around him, short nails digging crescent moons into the skin on his back, and Bail groaned. He stretched a hand out, fumbling for the lube he knew was somewhere, finally having to move away from Obi-Wan to find it in the nightstand drawer.

Returning to his position kneeling between Obi-Wan’s thighs, he paused. The Jedi was beautiful - red hair mussed, thin sheen of sweat on his body, kiss-swollen lips, eyes darkened with lust. Bail’s chest felt tight, and he couldn’t stop himself from bending down, cupping Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, and kissing him. The kiss was slow and easy, the barest press of tongues, and Bail shivered.

Bail drew back, pressing their foreheads together. He had to tell Obi-Wan. The words were burning a hole inside of him, and now, having thought that Obi-Wan was dead, it seemed stupid to keep swallowing the words. He took a breath.

“Obi-Wan, I lo-”

“Don’t say it,” Obi-Wan begged, eyes screwed shut yet a tear still leaked from the corner. “For Force’s sake, Bail, _please_ don’t say it.”

Bail’s heart broke for his Jedi, and he lowered his head to press a kiss to the trail that the tear had left. He couldn’t say it aloud, but he could show Obi-Wan. Allowing Obi-Wan time to compose himself, Bail shifted and grabbed the lube from where he’d dropped it on the pillow. He would need to buy more soon, he thought as he moved back between Obi-Wan’s legs. He glanced up at Obi-Wan, who nodded, and Bail squeezed lube onto the fingers of his left hand.

Obi-Wan’s breath caught as Bail circled a slick finger around his hole before slowly pressing it inside, and it wasn’t long before a second finger was added. Bail had wanted to take his time, he honestly had, but Obi-Wan was arching so beautifully underneath him, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he whined, and Bail was lost.

In no time at all, Obi-Wan was begging for Bail, fingers twisting into the sheets as he writhed when Bail pressed against his prostate. “Gods, Bail, _please_! It’s been too long. I need you inside of me.”

Bail couldn’t agree more, and with one final stroke of his fingers, he removed them, wiping them on the sheets. He slid between Obi-Wan’s parted thighs and carefully began to press inside. Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, and Bail murmured nonsense against his temple, nuzzling at the sweaty strands of hair. He breathed in deeply himself, smelling sweat and sex and the ever present scent of tea that always clung to Obi-Wan. When he was fully seated inside, he paused to look down.

Obi-Wan was staring up at him, tears clinging to his eyelashes, and he gave a trembling smile. “I know, Bail,” he whispered, trailing his fingertips down Bail’s cheek. “ _I know_.”

Bail began to move, slowly at first until Obi-Wan began to move with him. They were never far apart, pressed close together, panting heavily in the same air. Obi-Wan’s nails dug red lines down Bail’s spine, and Bail pressed fingertip shaped bruises into his hips. Each thrust was deep, and Bail hissed out a curse when Obi-Wan clenched tightly around him, tilting his pelvis up.

“Touch yourself,” Bail gasped. He was close, but he wanted to feel Obi-Wan come while he was inside of him.

Obi-Wan did as asked, his moans gradually becoming louder as his orgasm neared. “ _Gods_ , Bail!” He cried out when Bail shifted, his cock now pressing against Obi-Wan’s prostate with every thrust.

Bail lowered his mouth onto Obi-Wan’s, drinking down his cries and moans. When Obi-Wan came, he felt it, his lover’s body tensing and clamping down around him, and it only took him a few more thrusts before he, too, was spilling into Obi-Wan.

Chest heaving, Bail began to move away, but Obi-Wan clung to him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him.

“Don’t,” he murmured. “Stay. Please.”

Bail could never deny Obi-Wan anything, so he settled back down, pressing soft kisses to Obi-Wan’s forehead, cheeks, jaw, and lips. His heart swelled with the love he felt for this Jedi, for this man who had taken so much upon his shoulders and bore the heavy weight every day. Not for the first time, he wished there was something he could do to help and strengthened his resolve to see that the war ended quickly.

“You’re thinking too much,” Obi-Wan mumbled drowsily.

Bail chuckled. “I’m just thinking about whether we could sneak in another round in the morning before we have to part ways again.”

Obi-Wan peeked an eye open. The expression on his face clearly said that he knew Bail was lying, but he let it slide. “If we go to sleep now, then yes.”

Bail pulled out of Obi-Wan, running a hand down Obi-Wan’s thigh when he made a disgruntled noise. “Sleep. I’ll clean us up.” He disappeared into the bathroom and quickly wiped himself down before going back to the bed with a damp cloth. He carefully cleaned Obi-Wan, seeing the new scars and injuries now that he wasn’t intent on fucking the Jedi. It must have been a rough mission, but that wasn’t anything new for Obi-Wan. It seemed like the Council enjoyed sending him on the most dangerous ones.

There were bags under Obi-Wan’s eyes, and worry lines creased into his forehead, even as he slept. Force knew how much Obi-Wan actually slept, though it likely wasn’t much since he had a one-track mind when it came to his work. He was thin, too. He hadn’t put much weight back on after Zigoola, and it concerned Bail, but whenever he brought it up, Obi-Wan always waved his concern away and changed the subject.

Bail bent down and laid a kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “I will end this war for you,” he whispered. “You will once again be a peacekeeper. No matter what it takes. I promise you.”

Tossing the cloth aside, he turned out the light and curled up beside Obi-Wan, pleased when the Jedi moved closer, seeking his warmth. He ran a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair and closed his eyes, content now to sleep.


End file.
